


A Love Affair Between the Artist and His Subject

by blue_pointer



Series: 1939 [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Artist Steve Rogers, Draw Me Like One of Your French Girls, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Oral Sex, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Shower Sex, Stucky - Freeform, dance lessons, swearing because Brooklyn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 22:37:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7456555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_pointer/pseuds/blue_pointer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky tries to teach Steve how to dance and help with Steve's art homework. Apparently this is distracting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Love Affair Between the Artist and His Subject

**Author's Note:**

> The song is "It's Been a Long, Long Time" but you knew that. Because you've seen TWS.

“This is stupid,” Steve complained.

“Quit stalling,” Bucky said, “and take my hand.”

“What if someone sees us?” Steve asked. Considering they were in Bucky’s living room, the chances of that were slim.

“Becky’s got math club after school and Patti has baseball practice. You know Kate never gets home before 1:00.” Bucky covered all the possibilities. “Now come on, Steve.”

“We don’t even have music.” This time of day, there was only news on the radio, and Steve knew it.

“We don’t need music,” Bucky insisted. “I’m gonna count out the steps. That’s how you learn first before you add the music.”

“How’s doin’ this with you gonna teach me how to dance with a dame?”

Bucky had had enough of Steve’s stalling, and strong-armed him into position, grabbing Steve’s right hand with his left and jerking Steve’s left hand onto his waist. He wondered if he would have to hold it there, too. “I told you already,” Bucky said. “I’m dancing the dame’s part. You just be you.”

“A guy who can’t dance,” Steve said glumly.

“Not with that attitude you can’t.” Bucky started to sway real easy from side to side, hoping Steve would follow. Alas, he seemed determined not to move. “Come on, Stevie, just move your feet.”

“I don’t know what way to go,” Steve grumped.

“Then watch my feet,” Bucky said. “Mirror what I do.” To his credit, Steve tried. Bucky found himself looking at the top of Steve’s head as he stared down at Bucky’s feet, trying to follow along.

“What’s this step?” he asked.

“It’s not a step,” Bucky said. “This is just me trying to help you find your rhythm.”

“I don’t got rhythm,” Steve said. “I’m just the opposite of the song.”

“Come on, Steve, quit talking yourself out of it.” That joke hadn’t been half bad, though. “Now. Just like we practiced. Put your left foot forward.” Bucky sighed. “Your other left, Steve.”

“I told you I can’t do this!” He was determined to fail in the crankiest possible way.

“All right. Just. Forget about the Foxtrot for a second. Let’s try something slow. When you slow-dance, you don’t really worry about your feet so much. You just sort of get to enjoy your partner.”

“That’s you, right?”

“For practice, Stevie, yeah. That’s me.”

“I’m supposed to enjoy you like I would a girl?”

“Just don’t grab my ass while we’re dancing,” Bucky said. “I’m not that kind of girl.”

“You sure about that, Buck?” As he felt Steve’s palm close in for a grope, Bucky had to admit he had given Steve the idea.

“Hey, hey.” Bucky grabbed Steve’s hand and put it back on his waist. “Concentrate, punk.”

“How’m I supposed to do that without a girl or music?” Steve asked. He really was pig-headed.

Bucky actually stopped for a moment. “You wanna wait until one of the girls gets home and practice with them?”

“No,” Steve said quickly.

“Then deal with it, Steve.”

“Okay.” Being threatened with having to do this with one of Bucky’s sisters seemed to have done the trick.

“Don’t pout, Stevie. I’m the most beautiful dame you ever danced with. You’re a lucky guy.”

“The most beautiful dame I ever danced with has some massive five o’clock shadow,” Steve felt obliged to point out.

“That just makes it tickle when you kiss me goodnight.” Steve almost chuckled at that. “Now come on.”

“Buck, will you sing it? It’s hard for me to imagine the music.”

Bucky didn’t like to sing, but it seemed like people were always asking him to. This was Steve, though. “Fine,” he said. “What song do you want?”

“You know.”

Bucky sighed. “Why always that one, Steve?”

Steve shrugged. “I just like it.”

“You like when Kitty Kallen sings it or when I sing it?” Because Bucky couldn’t imagine asking him to sing it when there was another option.

“You sing it better,” Steve said after a moment of thought.

“Bullshit.”

“You do, too.” Steve gave him a soft punch to the ribs. “Just ‘cause you think you’re no good don’t mean we do, too.”  When Bucky remained silent, Steve asked again. “Please?”

“What do I get if I do?” Bucky asked, teasing. 

“This dance,” Steve said.

“Oo la la,” Bucky laughed. “I thought you’d never ask, handsome.” Why were Steve’s ears turning pink?

“Shut up, Buck.”

“C’mere, Steve, you got somethin' on your chin.” He tilted Steve’s face up toward his and kissed him before Steve could figure out what was going on.

“Liar!” Steve growled, pulling away.

“Sorry,” Bucky grinned, not sorry. “I think it was somethin’ on your lips instead.”

“Jerk,” Steve grumbled, the pink of his ears spreading down his neck.

“All right, put your hands back where they go.” To his surprise, Steve did so without argument. He didn’t look at Bucky when he did it, however.

Bucky started to sway once more. “Move your feet with me, Steve. Just real easy from side to side--ow.”

“Sorry, Buck.”

“It’s okay, Steve. Literally all you gotta do is not step on my feet. Come on. I have faith in you.”

“Where’s my music?” Steve prompted.

“If I sing, you gotta do Harry James’ part.”

“On what?” Steve was so disturbed by this, he stopped moving.

“Don’t stop, Steve.” Bucky placed one hand on the small of his back, forcing Steve to move with him. “You can hum it,” he said, before Steve could protest again. “Or whistle. You whistle better than me even.” Steve glared at him but didn’t protest further.

“One-two, one-two,” Bucky counted out loud, nodding at Steve. “One, two, three--” And Steve started to whistle the trumpet solo, glaring at him defiantly the whole time. If you could kill a guy with whistling, Bucky would have been lying on the ground in a pool of blood by now. But he noted that Steve was too angry to worry he might be short of breath, and his feet were still moving in time with Bucky’s.

He waited through Steve’s intro, resisting the urge to stroke his hair or pull him close because either ran the risk of ruining what Steve was managing to do without noticing he was.

Then it was Bucky’s turn. Singing the first bit was easy. It was almost like he’d written the words himself: “Never thought that you would be Standing here so close to me, There’s so much I feel that I should say…” And wouldn’t it be nice if Bucky could say all those things without having to act like he was joking, or waiting until Steve was too distracted or too tired to really hear them? “But words can wait until some other day…” And, really, that was fine by Bucky. So long as they could be together in the way that they were now, the words could wait. Maybe forever.

Bucky looked straight into Steve’s eyes when he sang, not angry, not challenging, but inviting, “Kiss me once and kiss me twice And kiss me once again, It’s been a long, long time…”

Bucky hid a smile, watching the pink at Steve’s neck start to creep up to his face. Bucky started to croon, shutting his eyes and pulling their clasped hands to rest against his chest while they danced. “Haven’t felt like this before Since don’t remember when, It’s been a long, long time…”

Steve had already fallen under his spell, moving close so that he could lay his cheek against Bucky’s collar. “You’ll never know how many dreams I dream about you…” Bucky rested his cheek against Steve’s hair. This was the part where the words got a little personal for _him_. He was teaching Steve to dance so that they could go to the dance hall together and Steve would stop making excuses why he couldn’t ask any girls to dance with him. But Bucky was secretly glad for Steve's excuses. Bucky didn’t mind if he was Steve’s only dance partner. Unfortunately, that would never fly with Steve. And it wasn’t really fair, considering the sheer number of girls Bucky had danced with. But sometimes--especially when it came to sharing Steve--Bucky didn’t give a rat’s ass about what was fair.

“Or just how empty they all seemed without you…” Was it Bucky’s imagination, or had Steve’s hand just squeezed his hand a little? “So kiss me once and kiss me twice Then kiss me once again, It’s been a long, long time.” Because Steve was still pressed against him, Bucky felt Steve sigh. This time, he couldn’t help combing his fingers through Steve’s hair. He didn’t want to say anything to break the spell, to pull Steve out of the moment, so he just kept quiet, their feet still shuffling slowly from side to side.

“Buck?” Steve asked softly without looking up.

“Yeah, Steve?”

This time Steve definitely squeezed his hand a little. “You ever think about the girl you wanna kiss when you hear that song?”

That sucked the romance right out of the moment for Bucky. Of course Steve was daydreaming about smooching some dame while Bucky was singing him a love song. “No,” Bucky said, and it came out much more abruptly than he’d intended.

“No?” Steve looked up at him, confused.

“Why, Steve?” Bucky tried to shift the attention away from himself and who he did or didn’t think of kissing. “Who do you think of? Joan Bennett? Merle Oberon?”

“No,” Steve answered quickly, looking away.

Bucky put on a grin, trying not to feel anxious. “Whoa, Steve. Is it some girl I know? You better tell me who it is. You know I’ll get it out of you eventually.”

“Stupid,” Steve grunted, not looking up at Bucky.

“Touchy-touchy,” Bucky said, deciding to let the matter drop for now. Steve couldn’t keep a secret from him for long. “Anyway, Steve.” Bucky stopped moving and smiled down at his friend. “Congratulations. You just learned how to slow dance! Now at least you have one thing you can ask a girl to do at the dance hall.”

Steve pulled away from Bucky, looking gloomy once more. “Yeah, yeah. They’ll be knockin’ each other down to take my dance ticket.”

Bucky sighed. “Come on, Stevie, don’t be like that.”

“It’s only the truth,” Steve said, carefully rolling up his sleeves.

“You need to finish that piece for tonight?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah,” Steve said, pulling his drawing board and pencils out of his art bag. “So go on. Assume the position.”

Bucky’s heart started to beat a little faster, even though he knew that wasn’t how Steve meant it. Steve was all business when it came to his drawing. Bucky started to unbutton his shirt, moving over to the window. “You might have to remind me where my arms were,” he said, tossing his shirt aside and pulling off his undershirt. Getting no answer, he glanced back at Steve. His friend was just staring at him. Bucky wasn’t sure if Steve was actually seeing him or if his mind had drifted off to parts unknown, a common thing when he was creating. “Earth to Steve.”

Steve blinked a little, then hurriedly looked away. “Just let your suspenders hang down like that,” he said. “And remember to push your pants down about three inches. I need the full curve of your lower back.”

Bucky really wanted to make a lewd remark, but jokes like that usually ticked Steve off when he was in art mode. So Bucky just did it, pushing his waistband down so that it hovered just below his hips. Then he knelt down and leaned over the radiator to rest his elbows on the windowsill, tilting his chin up. “Like that?”

“Hold on.” Steve came over and gripped Bucky’s hips, moving him, forcing him to arch his back more. Then he was adjusting Bucky’s arms to get his shoulders at the right angle. “All right, hold that.” Steve went back to the couch.

“It’s so hot when you move me how you want me,” Bucky teased, because Steve was being far too serious.  

“Shut up,” Steve said matter-of-factly, the scratch scratch of graphite the only sound that followed.

“You’d better stop missing class,” Bucky said. “Professor Tabor’s gonna get sick and tired of seeing my face on all your make-up assignments.”

Steve snorted. “You haven’t seen the way he looks at you, then. Buck, I think he prays for me to get sick so he can have another one of these pieces.”

Bucky wrinkled his nose. “I may puke, Steve.”

“What?” Steve asked in that utterly unemotional way he did when he was focused on a sketch. “I didn’t even say the part where he jerks off to them.”

“Yeah, thanks for leaving out that part.” Bucky’s voice dripped sarcasm. He checked his watch. “Oh, shit. I think the game started. Would you turn the radio on, Stevie?”

Steve huffed, frustrated to be interrupted, but he got up and flipped the radio on. The Dodgers were playing the Yankees, and someone was not going to be happy in New York tonight. “If the Dodgers win today, we gotta go tomorrow,” Bucky said. “They never lose when we go.”

“Mm-hmm.” There was no way Steve was actually paying attention to what he’d just said. But it was worth testing.

“I’ll wear Katie’s favorite pink dress. I think Becky’s school uniform should fit you, Steve.”

“Mm-hmm.”

Bucky chuckled. “Nevermind, Steve.” Bucky listened to the game, staring out the soot-stained window at the brick wall across the way. At least Mrs. Kaminsky didn’t have her giant panties hanging on the laundry line today. Bucky was trying hard to hold still, but then Phelps hit a triple, and Bucky smacked his hands together, sitting up. “Yes!”

“Buck, quit it,” Steve said, glaring at him.

“Aw, c’mon, Steve. We gotta cheer on our boys. That was a great play!”

“Cheer them on in your head,” Steve snapped. "I gotta get this done in the next half hour. Your shift starts at 1:00.”

“Yeah, so?” Bucky said. “It won’t hurt if I’m a little late.”

Steve just shook his head. “You’re such a model employee.”

Bucky shrugged. “Rubinstein knows he can’t fire me. If he did, he might as well close the counter.”

“Damnit, Buck.”

“What?” Bucky glanced back at Steve.

“You moved.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Well come fix me then, Maestro.”

Steve put everything to the side and walked over to the window, not saying anything.

“I’m glad you’re posing me by the radiator in spring,” Bucky joked, trying to lighten the mood. “This would hurt like hell in December.”

Steve didn’t reply, he just bent over Bucky to rearrange his arms on the windowsill. Then he slid one hand down Bucky’s spine. He could only assume Steve was testing the curve of his lower back, because Steve’s hand stayed there for a moment. Then one of Steve’s fingers snaked under his waistband to adjust how Bucky’s slacks lay below his hips.

“Watch it, Steve,” Bucky said, trying not to get excited. “You go much farther, I’m gonna have to consider it an indecent proposal.”

Maybe he deserved it after the teasing, but Bucky wasn’t ready for it when Steve pressed his lips between Bucky’s shoulder blades. Then he thrust his hand forward to scratch his fingertips down Bucky’s pubic trail. “Whoa!” Bucky gripped Steve’s wrist before his fingers could get any further. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, Steve!”

“Who says I can’t finish it?” Steve growled, drawing the blinds with his free hand.

Bucky twisted around, suddenly getting a whole lot of Steve on top of him.

“You’re so beautiful, Buck,” Steve breathed against his lips, sliding one hand up Bucky’s arm to twine their fingers together.  

“Hey,” Bucky protested. “I’m not your pretend girl dance partner anymore, Stevie.”

“Guys can be beautiful,” Steve insisted, kissing him slowly and thoroughly so that Bucky suddenly didn’t care so much about his choice of adjective.

“You sure about this, Steve?” Bucky asked. They didn’t have much time, and Steve wasn’t making any effort to take his own clothes off.

“Mmhmm, sure,” Steve said, kissing him hungrily.

“Steve…” Bucky dragged his nails down Steve’s back, frustrated at encountering fabric instead of skin.

“I want you right here,” Steve said. “Just like in my drawing.”

Bucky thought about this. “Your drawing is of you fucking me over the radiator?”

Steve growled and bit Bucky’s throat. He loved it when Bucky talked dirty. “It’s a love affair,” Steve explained between kisses that slowly moved down Bucky’s chest, “between the artist and his subject.”

“I’ll say!” Bucky agreed, as Steve pushed his pants down over his ass. He didn’t take Bucky’s drawers with them, though, the little punk. Then Steve’s lips wrapped around him and it didn’t matter anymore. Bucky’s hips arched off the floor with pleasure.

“Holy--! You--don’t--waste--any--!” The rest of Bucky’s sentence disappeared somewhere between Steve’s lips and tongue. “Nnn...Steve…” Bucky’s head lolled against the floor. “God…”

“Why you gotta wear so many clothes?” Steve asked in annoyance, and Bucky gasped, missing the pressure and hating the cold air on his wet cock as Steve stopped to pull off the last two remaining layers of his clothing.

Then the well of pressure was back and Steve nudged a finger up inside Bucky impatiently, twisting and thrusting deeper.

“Damnit, Steve!” He could get pretty rough when he was this horny.

“Sorry.” Steve disappeared, leaving Bucky panting on the floor alone. He was just about to get up when Steve came back, sans shirt, pulling one of Bucky’s legs over his shoulder as he knelt back down. “Your mom must’ve moved it,” he explained the delay.

“Can you please not talk about my mom when you’re getting ready to fuck me?”

“Sorry.” Steve had the good sense to kiss Bucky quiet before he fell further out of the mood.

“Steve, holy shit!” Bucky squirmed.

“That’s just two. You okay?”

“Oh shit! Oh fuck!” Bucky panted. “Ssssssteeeeeeeve…” Bucky’s hand fisted tight in Steve’s hair when his friend returned to sucking him off. Steve waited until Bucky was keening with pleasure before he pushed his other leg up and positioned himself.

“Fucking do it, Steve!” Bucky begged. “Don’t just tease me with it right there--!”

Steve’s whole body moved forward with the thrust, and he held it there as long as he could before he started to move, enjoying the feeling of sheathing himself balls-deep inside of Bucky. Bucky, who was holding his breath. So Steve started to move, watching Bucky to see if he would start breathing.

Not only did Bucky do that, he moved with Steve, pushing Steve deeper with every thrust. Steve increased the pace, and all manner of sweet sounds fell from Bucky’s lips. Steve kept up that pace as long as he could, but then his chest started to close up. He had no choice but to withdraw and reach for his inhalers, which he’d had the foresight to leave within reach.

“Steve,” Bucky whined.

“Too...hot…” Steve wheezed, taking another puff.

“Shit.” Bucky sat up, worried.

“Don’t even,” Steve gasped. “Get your ass...in the air, Mister.”

“Steve…”

He could tell he was about to lose Bucky, so Steve grabbed him and turned him around, shoving him up against the radiator. “I said...ass up!” Steve coughed, but he could feel the medicine starting to work.

Bucky was still looking back at him with that worried expression when Steve plunged back in. Bucky hissed and gripped the radiator. Steve moved slowly while his lungs began to open back up. He kissed Bucky’s back, reaching around to cup and stroke his balls until Bucky got hard again. Unfortunately, Bucky wasn’t going to let him off so easily.

“Steve…” Bucky panted. “You sure?”

“Ask me again and I’m not gonna pull out,” Steve threatened, thrusting hard enough to push Bucky forward.

Bucky bit his lip, dropping his head to look at Steve upside-down. Now he was pushing back against Steve’s thrusts. “Is that what you want?”

Steve had never really considered it a possibility before. “Kinda,” he realized. His instinct was naturally to finish while he was still inside, but it wasn’t an instinct that really applied here.

“Then do it.” Bucky’s eyes sparked in challenge when they met his. He arched his back. “Come inside me, Steve.” Bucky shut his eyes and pushed his ass back against him, groaning, wanton. “I want it!”

Steve wasn’t sure when the pace had become so fast.

“Give it to me. Oh, Steve!” Steve should not have been surprised to see Bucky was stroking himself, but what a turn-on that was!

“Holy shit, Buck!” Steve groaned and came, thrusting as he shot his load inside of Bucky. “Oh God!” Steve gasped. “Oh sh--! Fff--!. Bucky…” He collapsed over Bucky’s back, spent.

“That was nasty, Steve,” Bucky purred, shifting so that Steve slid off onto the floor and he could press up next to him. “You came hard that time.”

“Sorry,” Steve panted.

Bucky nuzzled his cheek, stroking one hand down Steve’s sweaty chest. “I like it when you’re nasty,” he whispered.

Steve turned his head to kiss Bucky, probing his mouth with his tongue. “You finish?” he asked, looking at Bucky’s flushed face, uncertain.

“Later,” Bucky told him, kissing Steve briefly on the lips. “Now I gotta shower before work.” He kissed the tip of Steve’s nose. “Some sexy punk decided to give me a jelly enema.”

Steve made a face. “Buck, that’s disgusting.”

“How do you think I feel?” Bucky winked, standing up. “You’d better pull your clothes back together before Kate gets home.”

Steve tugged his pants back up, self-conscious. On the radio, the sportscaster announced the time was 12:45, and Steve watched Bucky leave the room, thoughtful. “There’s plenty of time!” Steve called after him.

“Fine!” Bucky called back. “Lie there on the living room floor with your scummy dick hanging out. See if I care.”

Steve heard the water come on in the shower and pushed himself up, grabbing his shirt before sneaking down the hall. “You still gotta explain to the professor why your figure study isn’t done yet, though,” Bucky said.

“Well, it **is** the artist’s love affair with his subject,” Steve said, pulling aside the shower curtain to grin at Bucky.

“So what are you gonna tell him?” Bucky’s wet arms reached out and wrapped around Steve, tugging him into the shower.

“The affair took precedence over the visual representation of it,” Steve said, kissing Bucky hard. Then he knelt down on the floor of the tub to finish Bucky with his mouth and fingers.

“Don’t be so rough, Steve!” Bucky hissed, when Steve’s finger-fucking got a little too enthusiastic.

“What? I’m getting you clean,” Steve smirked.

“No you’re not,” Bucky pulled his hair. “You’re fantasizing about pounding my ass again.”

“Buck, you keep talkin’ dirty like that, and I will.”

Bucky bent down to kiss him apologetically. “There’s no time.”

The sound of the door opening and shutting in the living room confirmed his words. “Boys, I’m home!” Kate called from down the hall.

“Shit,” Bucky realized. “My clothes are strewn all over the damn floor out there.”

Steve grinned wickedly. “I’ll just tell her you were posin’ for me in the buff.”

“Right, Steve. Because THAT would totally make it okay.”

“Hey, I’m an art major,” Steve said. “The human body is just like a landscape to me.”

Bucky glanced in the direction of the bathroom door, unable to remember if Steve had locked it behind him. “Steve, what are you doing?”

“I gotta complete this work.”

“Steve, that’s my cock, not an art project.”

Steve gave him a teasing lick. “I call it Best Friend, Loose and Satiated.”

“Well that’s a risque title.” Bucky gasped as Steve swallowed him. “Shhhhhhit!” That hip-thrust had been purely involuntary.

“Come on, Buck,” Steve teased as he nibbled. “Don’t you support the arts?”

“Fuck you, Steve.” It was so hard to concentrate when he was worried about his sister walking in on them. Steve was unperturbed, stroking and coaxing Bucky to orgasm in spite of his anxiety.

“Later,” Steve whispered as Bucky slid down the tile wall, his knees turned to rubber.

“What?” he panted.

“I’ll fuck you later,” Steve promised. “After class.”

“Yeah, right,” Bucky half-laughed. “Even Mom will be home by then.”

“I didn’t say here.” Steve teased one last kiss and then slipped out of the shower, leaving Bucky to his imagination. “Surprise me.”

“I hate you.” Bucky stretched out on the floor of the tub, defeated.

“Hurry up,” Steve said, “or you’ll be late for work.”

“Jee, whose fault is that?”

Steve shrugged, rubbing his hair dry with a towel. “Some sexy jerk. His name was something like...Fuck-me Barnes?”

“Steve, keep your voice down!” Bucky hissed, mortified. It was bad enough Kate would know they’d both been in here at the same time.

Steve just laughed, leaning down to kiss Bucky. “I’ll go see if she needs help.”

After Steve left, Bucky just lay there on the bottom of the tub. He smiled to himself. Steve might daydream about dancing with and kissing dames, but Bucky was the one he always wanted to sketch or paint or sculpt. Maybe Bucky wasn’t in his dreams the way Steve was in his, but that had to be worth something.  

Bucky started as the bathroom door clicked open. “James Buchanan, you are officially late for work! I’m not calling and making up an excuse for you again. Hurry up before I send Steve in after you!”

After the door closed, Bucky laughed quietly. Sending Steve in would only compound the problem. “Be right there!” he called out. His legs didn’t want to work, but somehow Bucky got back to his feet. Now to get through the rest of the day with the stretched-out residual feeling of having had Steve inside him. On second thought, maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing…

_Surprise me._

Maybe they could ask Professor Tabor if they could stay late after class and get some make-up work done...


End file.
